Vision
by Seeker of the wind
Summary: When interesting times come, fates bind together in many different sides and directions. What seemed to be a vague chance turns into only destiny. The weird dream turns into true reality. And the Universe is shaped with strange event. Vision. No slash.
1. Vision 01

Vision 1. My best enemy. Harry Potter.

-Hello, mister Dursley,- said a young, clean-shaved man in a somewhat old-fashioned, but expensive tweed suit as the man opened the door.

-I'm Jonathan Fortesque. I'm here to transfer your nephew away for the rest of summer. Just, let's do it quietly- we don't want your neighbours to notice something, do you?-

Vernon, who already started turning crimson in fury, went pale. Then he turned back into his house and yelled:

-Boy! Your freak friends have come to pick you up! Pack up and get down here!-

Then he turned towards the man.

-At least you bothered to dress like normal people.-

They waited for two minutes and then a thin young man with bright green eyes went down from the first floor, carrying a large wooden trunk. Seeing the man, he stopped and eyed him with the suspicion.

-_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...-_ whispered the man, noticing his look. -He told the Order.-

The young man visibly relaxed.

-Come on, I'm driving you to London, my car is a few blocks away.-

Without saying anything like "Goodbye" they left the house at Privet drive. The older man looked around and cast first a Notice-me-not Charm, and then a Shrinking charm on boy's trunk.

-Put it away,- he said to Harry. The young man picked his trunk up and put it into his pocket.

-Do I know you?- Harry broke the silence. -You look familiar, but I cannot put my finger on it.-

-Second year.-

Harry spent several moments skimming through the memories of people he saw that year. Then he remembered and his very existence filled with ice-cold dread.

-Tom Riddle,- he mouthed, trying to reach for his wand.

-Don't even think about it. My wand is already out and I'm at no-miss distance. So, don't fret: if I wanted to kill you, I'd have locked your house down and set it on fire. We share the same blood, so your wards wouldn't react even if I made an autopsy of you on the front lawn. So chill, we're in for a long- postponed talk.-

Harry Potter looked around, trying to think of a way to escape from this trap, but the streets were deserted and no cars drove by. They walked into a local park and sat down on the bench.

-I'm not joining you,- said the teen doing his best not to look scared.

-Well, "duh",- snorted the Dark Lord. -I wasn't expecting you to. Just wanted to open your eyes to reality, so that if you happen to vanquish me, you didn't get fucked up the way Dumbledore was. You're no match for me now and you know it, so please don't do anything stupid. First, I don't really believe in the Prophesy, it sounds like a pile of fabricated bullshit now that I think about it. Secondly, I'm not quite as mad as I've led others, including you to believe. Thirdly, most of things you know about me and this world is incomplete at most, if not a pile of shit.-

-Death of Cedric Diggory is pile of shit? Or my godfather's? Or my parent's? Or all those muggles and muggleborns you killed?- the teen looked furious.

-First, Pettigrew is a weakling and his killing curse can't kill a fly. Diggories were my spies in the previous war and now Cedric is studying for his mastery in Charms in US. Priory Incantatem is also BS- my original wand was destroyed along with my body. All you saw was a well-orchestrated play to lure Dumbledore into a confrontation with Fudge. Your godfather... it's not my story to tell. But Bella had a reason to hate him the way she did and not because of politics. You'll find out some day, but not now. Your parents? Well they were my enemies, quite powerful, influential and brave ones for that. No Prophesy, no politics, just war-time opportunity. Muggleborns... Well, we could start there. You see, the mugglebornes don't have any real chance to get a decent job in any world- they have no skills, knowledge and paper trail for muggle world's education, while their blood status does not let them get any good job in the Wizarding one. As a result they are the cheapest labour in both worlds. So, in the times of war they are recruited into Auror Corps, thrown into one-month training and then sent to the front lines. As a result the muggleborn cannon fodder dies in mass, Ministry claims they are victims and makes a political statement, people get inspired, opposition slowly but steadily gets slaughtered. Then Ministry starts repressions against opposition, robs them blind or sends them to jail, hence getting the profit from the campaign. And cleanup writes everything off as collateral damage. Here's the "killed muggleborns" bullshit you were so angry about. I'd say that by failing just about every muggleborn of Hogwarts in Potions, hence making them underskilled for Aurors, Severus saved more lives than a shield charm during last war.-

Harry went silent in shock. What Tom described sounded monstrous, vicious and... truthful. Painfully, shamelessly truthful.

-You see, if I didn't come back, you'd be put up as the next Dark Lord as you wouldn't accept the status quo. The Ministry then would seize the Potter fortune and start a new fodder conveyor. That's how this world now works.-

-What are you doing then?-

-My aim is to bring down this world, to burn it to ash and see it rise from it. Or not- then good riddance, if it can't survive one man's efforts, should it survive at all? Harry, if one day you see another way to cleanse this world, you can try to bring me down, but before it, you'll always be no match for me.-

Harry blankly stared in front of him, trying to process new information. Minutes later, he stammered:

-How do I know it's true?-

-You don't. You'll see everything for yourself, you'll learn everything for yourself and you'll find your own vision. When your time comes, you'll do what you think is right and you will reap what you sowed. And in the end you'll pay for every your mistake by yourself. That's the Path of the Mage, Harry. That's the only Path that's worth it.-

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Dark Lord summoned teen's wand and made a complex movement.

-Here goes your tracking charm,- Tom Riddle gave the wand back to young wizard. Then he reached for his pocket, took out a shrunk trunk and a quill and gave it to Harry. The young wizard took them with a questioning glance.

-See you around, Harry. Letus.-

Harry felt the familiar sensation of being a frog in a mixer. When the world came back to him, he found himself in the middle of warm sandy desert. Emptiness and nothing holy- all around.

Warm dry wind warped around him and he closed his eyes, for the first time this year feeling freedom and oblivion all over him, erasing all worries and fears of yesterday.

"You're a bastard, Tom,- he thought. -Cruel, cold-hearted, violent bastard. But still, you're the best enemy I have."


	2. Vision 02

Vision 2. Hard to be Git*. Severus Snape.

The Potions Master's day started really early and hence really badly. A frantic firecall from someone in the Order was replied with a heavy boot flying into caller's face. Snape always had several pairs of boots by his bed to throw them into early callers. Albus new better than doing that and everyone else was a free game. Nevertheless, he was woken before the bleeding dawn and that just about defined the program for the day. Ten minutes later Dedalus Dingle firecalled and asked if Severus was awake. His face still had boot marks and he looked ready to fall back at any second, so Snape assumed he was the previous caller.

-What in Morgana's name happened?- barked the Potions Master.

-Potter's missing!-

Severus Snape groaned.

-For bloody Merlin's sake, the brat can't keep out of trouble for a week!- exclaimed the irate Potions Master. -Okay, I'll go and find out if he was captured.-

Snape ended the firecall and turned on his muggle musical centre. Snape stretched his neck and went to the bathroom under the chords of "Imaginations from the other side"**. Thirty minutes later he firecalled the HQ (he didn't really know its address, but this muggle contraction was used instead; somehow, it only worked from his and several others' fireplaces).

Lord Voldemort was in and quite in good mood.

-Come in, Severus,- he spoke in his well-known "getting under your skin" voice. Dark Lord's appearance shifted to mimic that of Snape himself. "Oh, great, psychopath's in a mood to play"- he thought deep, really deep inside his head, under multiple Occlumency shields.

-As you wish, my Lord,- Snape kneeled in front of Voldemort's throne.

-I am content with your work so far, Severus. Unlike others you have not failed me yet. Now, I want you to finish all your current business within a week and prepare to make a long trip to South America. How is your Portuguese?-

-Bem, obrigado.*** May I inquire on more details of the mission?-

-You will have to search for old Grindelwald's followers or their descendants. We could use their wands, money and products. I'll need a list of people who are open for cooperation. Plus, I hear some potion ingredients are dirt-cheap there. Normally I'd send Lucius, but he's resting at Azkaban spa and I'd give him some more time there to make sure he learns his lesson.-

-As you wish, my Lord,- Severus bowed his head, then stood up and left the room.

-That went well,- he told himself after the door closed. -Five minutes and not a single Cruciatus.-

"On the other hand, he's not cheerful enough to suggest that something happened to Potter"- he mentally noted. "Looks like the brat ran off by himself."

He made a short walk around HQ, visited prison chambers, saw no difference in patrols and then went back to the Floo fireplace. Lack of change in watch patterns and Macnair running around with sharp objects implied that Potter wasn't here and if he wasn't here, he wasn't anywhere else. Snape threw Floo powder into the fire and seconds later was home. After cleaning his robes from ashes, Severus called Headmaster's office.

-Albus, may I come through?-

Professor Dumbledore sat at his table and read through the paperwork, until Potions Master called. Then he pushed parchment away and smiled.

-Please do, my friend. May I hope you have good news?-

-Rather lack of bad news. I'm pretty sure Potter was not captured by Voldemort. Death Eaters lost far too many lieutenants in the Department of Mysteries and it looks like Dark Lord is busy with recruiting and training troops. The bad news is that Dark Lord ordered me to travel to South America for recruiting. I should be leaving in a week.-

Dumbledore frowned.

-Does he suspect you of something?-

-I don't think so. If he thought I was a traitor, I wouldn't get off without a single torture curse today. Looks like with Lucius in prison it's harder to manage funding and he needs me to sort the sources out. I suppose Bellatrix isn't the best peaceful negotiator and scout, never mind an accountant.-

Both wizards laughed at image of Bella Lestrange trying to balance a sheet.

-Still, Albus, it looks like you'll have to also search for Potions Teacher. Hope, you'll have some luck with it. I should get going now,- sighed the Potion Master. -Dozen freelances to finish off and not a free day.-

Several days later Severus sat in a dimly lit pub, listening to some reasonably heavy tune and downing his third whiskey per evening. The pub was about half-full and some young metal band was on the stage, singing covers on recent hits and classic compositions. Potions Master sat in the corner and sipped his drink, deep in his thoughts. He straightened out his muggle documents for travel, bought set of travel clothes and a plane ticket, finished all his contracts and set up a Visa card through Gringotts. Now that all his business was over, all he could do was say goodbye to his homeland before a journey to the unknown. He couldn't even be sure he's coming back- between hot-tempered South American wizards and deadly flora and fauna his chances of survival seemed quite thin. Unpleasantly thin, rather. Thou, it could be alcohol.

-Mind if I sit here?- being too deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice a young woman coming up to his table. For a second he thought he saw Lily's ghost: woman was average height, had crimson-red hair and shining green eyes. But a moment later he noticed a slightly longer nose, pale freckled skin and sharper jawline, and it dawned on him that young woman was merely similar to her. He recovered from shock in less than a second.

-It's a free country,- he said, regaining composture.

-Great, should remember that,- she smiled, a mere shadow of irony in her eyes. -Duana.-

-I beg your pardon?-

-My name. Duana. And you are?..-

-Severus.-

-Sounds Latin.-

-It is,- he said with the same shade of irony she had. Then he noticed a pair of not-so-sober youths rising from their seats and looking their way. For a second Snape allowed Death to look from his eyes- the trick he learned after his tenth kill on the Death Eater path. "Just look at a person and see how you're going to walk up to him and cut his head off; no grimaces, no fury, only Death."

Youths fell back onto their chairs, panting in unexplainable terror.

-Neat trick,- girl's soft Irish accent felt like a tickle behind his ear. -Much experience in intimidation?-

-More than you can imagine,- he smirked and turned to her, demons dancing at the bottom of his abyss-black eyes. -Would you like to go to Brazil with me?-

Yes, it's hard to be Git. But sometimes so worth it.

*- Reference to a novel "Hard to be God" by Strugatsky brothers.

**- Album by Blind Guardian (1995).

***- Good, thanks.


End file.
